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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320408">the man who fell out of the car window</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlilac/pseuds/moonlilac'>moonlilac</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>VICTON (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2seung is superior, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:49:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,183</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320408</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlilac/pseuds/moonlilac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A car accident, a sucky(?) first date, and the ensuing dates.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Han Seungwoo/Kang Seungsik</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the man who fell out of the car window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p3">“Shit!” Seungsik mutters under his breath as a silver Sonata cuts him off at the yellow light, splashing so much rain water against his windshield that he can barely see the light — now red.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He doesn’t hate the rain; he just hates how people drive in it. More precisely, he hates how people <em>forget</em> how to drive in it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He gets off to a slow start when the light finally turns green again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s probably what saves his life.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Because one second he’s singing to the latest trashy pop song on the radio and the next he’s slamming on the brakes, his car skidding to a screeching halt.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The car in the lane next to him isn’t so lucky.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Through the back and forth motion of his windshield wipers, Seungsik watches as a semi truck comes barreling past its red light, watches as the small sedan tries and fails to get out of the way.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s not anything like the movies — it doesn’t happen in slow motion, time doesn’t stop, and worst of all, he doesn’t wake up from the nightmare.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He’s frozen in shock for a second. And then he’s yanking on his seatbelt and stumbling out of his car, the scent of burning rubber and melting plastic briefly registering in his mind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He crawls over to the scene. It’s not that far from him, and the only thought going through his mind is <em>that could have been me</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">A circle of people have now come to surround the periphery of the accident. There are hushed whispers, frantic crying, and lots of yelling into phones. No one tries to get close though.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the truck driver stumble out. Seungsik pays him no mind, more concerned about the small sedan that is completely crushed and has not shown any life inside.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">When he gets closer, he sees an arm — an arm bent at the wrong angle, but an arm nonetheless. Seungsik’s heart leaps with hope.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hello?” He calls out, his voice getting carried away in the rain and wind. He tries again. “Are you…are you in there?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s a stupid thing to ask, but Seungsik can’t think with all the smoke and fog and rain and yelling and chaos and just sheer terror.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Are you in there?” He repeats, desperately. There has to be a person in there and they have to be alive — because that easily could have been him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">There’s a grunt, and Seungsik surges forward.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He grabs the arm — it’s pale and cold, but it’s twitching. And twitching means life.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m going to pull you out, okay?” Seungsik calls, even though he doesn’t know if the person can hear him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s hard, pulling a body through the shattered window of a crushed car. But Seungsik reminds himself that the seemingly deadweight body is not, in fact, dead, and that’s what’s important.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Eventually, he catches sight of a mop of black hair, and it’s enough to motivate him to give a last ditch effort. It works, and a second later, a body slithers out of the window and nearly topples Seungsik over.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Shit, you’re heavy,” he mutters, as he wraps both arms around the weight to keep them from slamming into the wet ground.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">There’s a hollow chuckle that makes his head whip around fast enough that the rain beating down slashes across his face so hard that it hurts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The man who fell out of the car window is beautiful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">That’s Seungsik’s first thought.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The man who fell out of the car window is bleeding.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">That <em>should</em> have been Seungsik’s first thought.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Shit, you’re bleeding,” he says after a few seconds of just blinking at the man in his arms.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The man doesn’t open his eyes, but a slow smile creeps onto his face. “You say shit a lot.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">If there wasn’t cold rain coming down in sheets at the moment, Seungsik swears his cheeks would be in flames.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Yeah, so, I’m sure an ambulance will be here soon. Because there are a bunch of people with phones out. So I’m assuming at least one of them have called the police. And that they’re not just, you know, filming this or something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik wants to punch something.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The man still in his arms cracks open an eye. “Mm.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Scratch that, Seungsik wants to punch <em>himself</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m Seungsik,” he introduces himself instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Seungwoo.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s breathing is shallow and his face pale, and Seungsik can feel how cold his body is.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Okay Seungwoo, stay with me now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He rubs his hands over Seungwoo’s arms in an attempt to warm him up, only to feel gooey warmth over his fingers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Blood.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You’re bleeding a lot,” Seungsik says in a small voice, staring at the blood on his hands.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Yeah,” comes the whispered reply.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik’s eyes move to meet Seungwoo’s, now fully open. He sees the pain and the disorientation, but more than that, he sees the fear.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">How could he appear scared when Seungwoo is the one lying immobilized and bleeding? Seungsik <em>really</em> wants to punch himself now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He clears his throat. “So, Seungwoo, is there a girlfriend or boyfriend I need to be worried about? I mean, you being in my arms and everything.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">A smile blooms on Seungwoo’s face, one that tentatively reaches his eyes, and Seungsik feels himself smiling back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“No,” Seungwoo replies.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik tries not to worry about how much effort it seems to take Seungwoo to just breathe out a single word.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Good, I really wouldn’t be able to take on an angry significant other,” Seungsik says, keeping his eyes trained on Seungwoo’s and willing Seungwoo to do the same.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s eyes threaten to close at any moment, and Seungsik is desperate for them to stay open.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“And I wouldn’t want anyone interrupting our date,” he adds.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s smile returns. “Is this…a date?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik pretends to be offended. “Of course it is! It’s dark, there’s rain, you’re in my arms. Isn’t this the prototype rom-com?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">This time, he gets a whole chuckle. The gesture seems to hurt though, because Seungwoo winces. “So romantic.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo has turned even more pale, and his body shivers in the rain. Seungsik looks around in a panic, but the crowd is still there with no ambulance in sight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo blinks…and doesn’t open his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hey. Hey Seungwoo.” Seungsik’s panic increases. “You said you’d stay with me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It seems to take a great deal for Seungwoo’s eyes to flutter back open.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik breathes a sigh of relief. “Good. Good. Stay with me now. I don’t want you passing out on me on the first date.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It takes forever for Seungwoo to open his mouth. “First?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">This time, Seungsik feigns hurt. “What? You don’t like me enough to go on a second date with me? And here I was, thinking I had it all down pat with the romance.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo looks like he wants to laugh again, but chooses to reign it in. Seungsik is glad; he really doesn’t want Seungwoo to pass out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik’s attention is shifted to a tug on his sleeve. “Talk…to me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik meets Seungwoo’s eyes; the pain and disorientation is still there, but this time, he sees something else — a fighting spirit. A fight to live, a fight to hold on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">So Seungsik tells Seungwoo about himself. Everything from his dreams (to be a singer), to his best friend (dumbass Heo Chan), to his part-time job (tutoring a kid named Subin). He tells Seungwoo everything there is to know about his boring life, until his throat starts to burn, and Seungwoo just lays in his arms and listens. Not that he’s got much of a choice, but Seungsik still appreciates having someone listen to his mundane life.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He talks and Seungwoo listens, all the way until Seungsik hears sirens in the background and sees flashing light in the distance. And even then, he doesn’t stop, all the way until the paramedics are yelling near his ear and trying to pull Seungwoo off of him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He can’t let go; he has to make sure Seungwoo lives — because that could have been him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Son, you’ve done great. Let us handle it from here” a gruff voice sounds in his ear.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik falters, looking up through wet bangs. “But—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You can come on the ambulance with him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik glances down to meet Seungwoo’s eyes, almost glazed over now. He doesn’t say anything, but grasps Seungsik’s hand weakly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">That’s the only answer Seungsik needs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He grasps Seungwoo’s hand tightly. He doesn’t let go as they wheel a stretcher out, doesn’t let go as they cart him into the ambulance, doesn’t even let go as they tear through the emergency room at the hospital.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Son, you can let go now.” The same gruff voice from before speaks, but the tone is gentler this time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I have to—“ But he stops himself. Because what does he have to do? He’s just a stranger to Seungwoo. A stranger who told his life story and secrets to him, but a stranger nonetheless. Who knows if Seungwoo even wants him here?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He lets go of Seungwoo’s cold fingers, and they immediately wheel him away into a surgery room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Only when he’s left alone in the empty hallway does Seungsik realize that he left his cell phone in his car. He borrows a hospital phone to make a call to Chan, telling him to grab the spare key from his drawer and drive his car back to the apartment.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You sure you’re okay?” Chan asks, his voice coming in scratchy as he shifts it between his cheek and shoulder while he rummages around looking for the spare.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Yeah. Yeah, just in shock I think. I’ll stay here for a bit more.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Call me if you need a ride back,” Chan says before hanging up with a promise not to total his car.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik smiles as he hands the phone back to the receptionist. Maybe dumbass Heo Chan is a great best friend after all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He drops down into a nearby chair, letting his head rest on the wall behind him. He thinks about his day, about his probably smoked tires, about Seungwoo’s condition, but most of all, he thinks about Seungwoo in his arms, Seungwoo’s smile, and Seungwoo’s eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Somehow, he dozes off. He’s awoken by distant yelling and frantic cries.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Han Seungwoo! How’s his condition? Seungwoo, Han Seungwoo,” a woman runs to the information desk.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The receptionist seems taken aback too. “Uh…he’s still in the operating room.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The woman releases a frustrated sigh, but thanks him for his help, and then drops down into a chair a few seats away from Seungsik.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">She’s beautiful; her slicked back ponytail suggests an immaculate lifestyle, complete with a vibrant red lipstick. Her fitted black suit and matching high heels make Seungsik slink back into his chair, suddenly very aware of his dirty and wet t-shirt and jeans.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Girlfriend? No, Seungwoo said he doesn’t have one, and for some reason, Seungsik believes him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Maybe an ex…</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The thought makes him squirm, and the beautiful lady eyes him. He lowers his gaze.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Well, if Seungwoo has someone waiting for him, then he should probably head out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He stands, just as another girl bursts into the room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m looking for Han Seungwoo,” she says, out of breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Still in the operating room,” the receptionist repeats.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">This woman is in a white dress, her long hair flowing down her back in soft curls. Seungsik is struck by her femininity, a stark contrast to him and an even starker contrast to the woman in black also waiting to hear about Seungwoo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Err…another ex? Seungsik marvels at how different the two women are, and wonders what Seungwoo’s type is. He catches his train of thought and shakes his head. What’s it matter to him?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He shoves his hands into his pockets and heads for the exit.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“If you’re not going to eat your lunch, I’ll eat it for you,” Sejun says, his hand inching close to Seungsik’s tray.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Shove it Im Piggy, I get dibs before you,” Byungchan retorts, using chopsticks to stop Sejun’s advancement.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Chan plops down into the seat next to Seungsik and steals a fry from his plate without asking, truly cementing his position as his best friend, much to Sejun’s and Byungchan’s complaints.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik ignores them, as usual.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s true that he’s been picking at his food. He can’t help it — all morning he’s been thinking about Han Seungwoo. Maybe he should have waited to hear if he made it out of the operating room before leaving. Now he’s left feeling anxious and guilty.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Seriously, what’s up with you?” Chan nudges him, stealing two other fries and handing them to Sejun and Byungchan.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shrugs. “Nothing really, I’m just—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He trails off as his mouth drops in shock. Because Han Seungwoo has just walked into the cafeteria, tall and beautiful and — alive. Granted, he has a bandage on his head and a cast over his right arm, but he’s alive.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">And he’s here, in front of Seungsik.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo stops and looks around the room, searching, and Seungsik swears his heart flatlines before speeding off into a gallop. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo spots him a second later, and the smile he gives him is a tenfold version of what he got the night before, which Seungsik already thought was so beautiful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He’s not sure if time slows down or speeds up, because one second he’s blinking at Seungwoo’s frozen image wondering if he’s dreaming, and the next second Seungwoo is somehow right beside him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hi,” Seungwoo says, that same megawatt smile on his face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hi?” Seungsik replies, still not believing his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Seungwoo hyung!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You know him?” Seungsik asks Chan, stunned, though he really shouldn’t be considering Chan knows nearly the entire student population. It’s just never occurred to him that Seungwoo would also be a student at their school.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Chan reaches over Seungsik to give Seungwoo a bro shake on his good arm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Seungwoo hyung? Of course I know him. He’s the captain of our soccer team,” Chan says, eyeing Seungsik weirdly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Chan had dabbled in soccer for a year before falling in love with dance and switching over.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You would know that if you weren’t always holed up in your room,” Sejun adds, just as Byungchan mutters “Loser” under his breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik’s face heats up as Seungwoo laughs gently and exchanges greetings with everyone at the table, explaining his injuries.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m still here,” Seungsik grumps softly, feeling very much left out of the conversation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">A shock runs through his body when amused eyes turn to him. “So you are.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Under Seungwoo’s playful gaze, Seungsik turns bashful and nervous.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo tilts his head toward the door. “Mind stepping out with me for a sec?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shakes his head, suddenly out of words, and scrapes his chair back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The exchange catches Chan’s attention, who grabs his arm and yanks on it until Seungsik drops his head.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“What the hell, Kang Seungsik,” Chan hisses in his ear. “When did this happen? You’ve got some explaining to do.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik waves him off, secretly gloating that he’s managed to shock <em>the</em> Heo Chan. He hasn’t revealed much of what happened that night other than the basics, though he’s not really sure why he’s kept the details to himself.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Then he glances up at Seungwoo, who watches him with an unreadable expression, feels his heart thud heavily against his rib cage, and has his answer.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They are stopped by other tables as they make their way out of the cafeteria. At each one, someone flags Seungwoo down and strikes up a conversation, asking about his bandage and cast. Some have been in Seungsik’s various classes, others he has never even seen around campus. Some don’t notice him, others give him a curious glance, and still others don’t even hide their envy that he’s by Seungwoo’s side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik just watches. Watches Seungwoo in his element, laughing and chatting naturally with everyone. He’s so different from the Seungwoo that was laying in his arms, and Seungsik has a hard time reconciling the two in his mind. But every now and then Seungwoo looks over, gives him a smile, and Seungsik somehow knows that it’s one just for him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They finally make it out, with Seungwoo waving at a group of people and steering Seungsik around a corner so they don’t have to stop again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They find a nearby bench outside, and Seungwoo collapses onto it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Are you okay?” Seungsik asks, alarmed as he kneels down next to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo waves off his concern. “Just a bit tired.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik mentally kicks himself for not noticing Seungwoo’s struggle earlier. He takes a seat next to him. “How have you been doing?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo grimaces. “Okay. I got a couple of stitches on my head. And a broken arm. And a few cracked ribs. But all minor stuff really.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He looks at Seungsik. “Just glad to be alive.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Me too,” Seungsik agrees. “I mean that you are. I mean of course that I am too, but…”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Is it too late to run and hide?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">But Seungwoo laughs, big and throaty, and Seungsik almost forgets his embarrassment.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He peeks over at Seungwoo. In broad daylight and up close, Seungwoo is radiant. His skin is pale, but not in that deathly sheen that he was the other night. It’s a paleness that’s healthy and glowy and that contrasts nicely with the red of his lips…</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik looks away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You look good,” he blurts after a clear of his throat. “I mean, not that you didn’t the other day. But just…you look…good.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Smooth, Kang Seungsik.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">A corner of Seungwoo’s lips rise up. “You’re not bad yourself.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik nearly squeaks. Flirting is a lot less flustering when it’s more of a one sided conversation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo turns to him so that they are fully facing each other on the bench, and offers a hand. “Han Seungwoo. I don’t believe we have properly met.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik smiles and takes the hand in a firm shake. “Kang Seungsik. Nice to meet you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He tries not to think about how big Seungwoo’s hand is or how slender Seungwoo’s fingers are or how it would feel to intertwine his fingers with Seungwoo’s.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">So instead, he thinks about how Seungwoo’s eyes sparkle and twinkle, how Seungwoo’s nose scrunches when he smiles, how Seungwoo’s whole body shakes when he laughs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Fucking hell.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You okay?” Seungwoo asks, a crease of worry appearing between his eyebrows.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik drops Seungwoo’s hand. “Yeah. Sorry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo is quiet for a minute, and it makes Seungsik squirm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Um. I just wanted to say…thank you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik blinks. “For what?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s Seungwoo’s turn to fidget. “For…being there that night.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Oh. You don’t have to thank me for that,” Seungsik says, embarrassed. “Anyone would have done it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo shakes his head. “But no one else did. Except for you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik doesn’t have a reply to that, because it’s true. There were hoards of people around that night, all hovering, but none daring to come close.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik sighs. “You don’t have to thank me. I did it…I did it because it could have been me. I needed to make sure you were alive, because a second sooner and it would have been me. I…I did it for selfish reasons.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He lowers his head, ashamed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“It could have been any of those people watching, but only you approached and only you stayed with me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik looks up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s eyes are kind, and there’s a gratitude in them that Seungsik doesn’t think he deserves. “So thank you. And thank you for talking to me and making me feel less scared. But most of all, thank you for not leaving me alone.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You weren’t such bad company,” Seungsik jokes lightly, because he’s suddenly shy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">That gets him another laugh, and this time he allows himself to laugh along.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“The two women who showed up in the emergency room…” Seungsik starts and then trails off, because he’s not sure how to continue.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s eyebrows shoot up. “You stayed that long? Until they showed up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik flushes red, and can’t help but peek up at Seungwoo, who somehow looks pleased.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“My sisters,” Seungwoo explains. “My oldest sister is a hotshot lawyer. My second sister is a kindergarten teacher.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s funny how Seungsik immediately knows which one is which. It’s even funnier how relieved he is to hear that the two gorgeous women aren’t exes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“So,” Seungwoo says, and Seungsik can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s wringing his hands. For the second time in ten minutes, he wonders what it would be like to hold them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“So…that night you said, first date.” Seungwoo pauses to take a breath. “Can I have the privilege of taking you out on a second one? A proper one?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik swallows down the squeak that threatens to spill from his throat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“How dare you say our first date wasn’t a proper one!” He jokes, laughing as he bumps Seungwoo’s shoulder with his own.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Considering I was lying nearly unconscious for the better part of the night, I’d say that was a pretty sucky first impression.” Seungwoo’s smiling; it’s sheepish and shy and so beautiful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Then I guess my expectations for the second one won’t be so high,” Seungsik says, and he marvels at how easy it is to joke around with Seungwoo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo grins. “It’s a date then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You know,” Seungsik starts as they walk out of the coffee shop, Seungwoo holding the door open for him like the gentleman that he is. “I’m kind of disappointed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s lips turn up. “Oh?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik sighs dramatically. “I was really looking forward to my prototype rom-com date night with rain and cuddling.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo laughs, and it’s a sound that immediately puts a smile on Seungsik’s face too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo takes a step closer and Seungsik takes one back; it’s a game, but it’s one that both parties are willing participants.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m afraid I can’t do much about the weather,” Seungwoo says with a waggle of his eyebrows as he steps even closer, “But the cuddling…”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik laughs, loud and boisterous, and proceeds to shove Seungwoo gently on the shoulder. Seungwoo readily eases up, falling into step next to him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I was saving the romance for the third date,” Seungwoo suddenly says with a poke to Seungsik’s side.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik yelps as Seungwoo runs away, leaving him stunned and, a second later, grinning foolishly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hey! Wait for me!” He yells, weaving through people to catch up to Seungwoo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“There’s something we never addressed,” Seungwoo says, kicking Seungsik<span class="Apple-converted-space"> lightly </span>to get his attention.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hm?” Seungsik replies, not looking up from his laptop.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They’re in the empty student lounge, both cramming because Seungsik has a paper due the next day and Seungwoo has a test coming up. It’s 2AM, and they have long ditched the table in the corner for the much more comfortable couch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That night…” Seungwoo pauses, and it’s enough for Seungsik to glance up.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I recall you talking to me informally all night…and calling me by my name,” Seungwoo says, leaning back into the seat and eyeing Seungsik with a glint that he’s now become used to.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">It’s one that gives him butterflies in his stomach and tingles down his back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hmm, is that right?” Seungsik asks, equally playful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo nods his head very seriously. “I was very offended by your disrespect for elders.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik masks his snort into a cough. “You’re literally a year older.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo nods again, this time vigorously. “Exactly! A whole year wiser.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">This time, Seungsik doesn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Okay then, my respectable elder, how should I compensate for hurting your precious ego?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo shoots him a glare and Seungsik grins, hands up in defeat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“My apologies. How should I compensate for my blatant insolence?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That’s better.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">In his exhausted and half delirious mind, Seungsik decides it’s a good idea to approach Seungwoo by crawling closer. “So how do you want me to make it up to you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo watches him approach with weary but intrigued eyes, and under his watch, Seungsik becomes shy. He plops down next to Seungwoo, suddenly tired.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Should I start calling you…Seungwoo-ssi? Seungwoo sunbae?” Seungsik suggests.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hyung is fine,” Seungwoo laughs, and gives him a light tap on the forehead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Seungwoo hyung. Seungwoo hyung. Hyung. Hyuuuuung,” Seungsik whines, snuggling his head between the crook of Seungwoo’s neck in an attempt to act cute.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That tickles!” Seungwoo tells him, but doesn’t move away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Good, serves you right for trying to take advantage of my kindness by teasing me,” Seungsik laughs, wiggling once more to get his point across.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo moves so fast Seungsik barely realizes what’s happening before his head falls off Seungwoo’s shoulder and hits the seat of the couch behind him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He blinks up at Seungwoo, who is now leaning over him and peering down on him with an almost wolfish glint in his eye.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Take advantage of you?” Seungwoo’s voice is dangerously low, and Seungsik gulps as his eyes unconsciously flit down to Seungwoo’s lips.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’ll show you what taking advantage looks like,” Seungwoo says with a lick of his lips, and Seungsik is so entranced by the movement that he doesn’t anticipate Seungwoo’s advancement at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hyung!” Seungsik cries as Seungwoo attacks him with tickles. “Hyung, hyung, hyung, I’m sorry! Hyung, I was wrong!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">In between laughs and thrashes, Seungsik pleads for his life. “Hyung, I’m sorry…hyung stop it, hyung—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shuts up when plush lips fall on his. In fact, he goes completely still until gentle fingers coax his chin up a little. And just as his mind clears from the haze, Seungwoo tries to pull away. But Seungsik pulls him right back, weaving his arms around Seungwoo’s neck to keep him locked in place as he kisses him, direct and firm.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">When they break the kiss off, they’re both a little flushed and a little shy. It’s a stark contrast to their bold flirting a few minutes ago, but Seungsik finds that it’s not an uncomfortable atmosphere.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He rests his head back on Seungwoo’s shoulder as he picks up his laptop again. He looks up at Seungwoo with wide, innocent eyes and flutters his eyelashes. “Is that what being taken advantage of means?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo jerks his shoulder up in an effort to jiggle Seungsik’s head. “You seemed like you enjoyed it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik bites back a smile. He did, he really did.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo plops down next to Seungsik on the bench with a brief kiss on the cheek as a greeting.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“This is disgusting,” Hanse says very matter of factly while staring at both of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Shut it,” Seungsik tells him without looking away from Seungwoo.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“How was class?” Seungwoo asks, reaching over to brush a fallen leaf out of Seungsik’s hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Hanse nearly got us both kicked out,” Seungsik says with an unbothered shrug, used to his friend’s antics by now.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo chuckles. “Hanse, what did you do this—“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They both turn to the spot Hanse was sitting, only to find it empty.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Do Hanse!” Seungsik calls out to the figure currently walking away toward the building.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Hanse doesn’t turn around, flipping them both off before changing it into a five fingered wave goodbye.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shakes his head in amusement. He eyes Seungwoo, who doesn’t seem too bothered by Hanse’s departure. “Are we that gross?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo smiles wider and inches closer. “We can be even more gross.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shoves him in the chest, and Seungwoo quickly grabs hold of his hand and intertwines their fingers together.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The laugh that was bubbling out of Seungsik catches in his throat.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s hand is big and warm, and when he brushes his thumb against the back of Seungsik’s hand, Seungsik shivers at the feeling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’ve been wanting to do that,” he confesses. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo gazes down at their interlocked hands. “This? Then why didn’t you? It’s not like we haven’t done other stuff.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">The way Seungwoo phrases it makes Seungsik blush scarlet, even though “other stuff” has only been sneaking make out sessions in abandoned classrooms in between classes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I don’t know. It just seems…more.” To prove his point, Seungsik wiggles his fingers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo looks at him fondly as he jerks Seungsik closer with a pull of their hands. He doesn’t let go as he wraps his other arm around Seungsik’s waist and tilts his head down. “Yeah? I like more.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik meets him halfway.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Me too,” he whispers against Seungwoo’s lips.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They’re on the couch of their shared apartment, Seungsik’s head on Seungwoo’s lap as Seungwoo cards gentle fingers through his hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“Sik-ah,” Seungwoo calls out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik smiles. He always does when Seungwoo says his name in that tone. It’s a little soft, a little tender, and always with a lot of love.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That night…” Seungwoo pauses, like he does every time he brings up the topic. “Why did you decide to flirt with me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik shifts so he’s on his back, staring up at Seungwoo. It’s an unflattering angle, but Seungwoo is always beautiful in Seungsik’s eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That’s what you want to know?” He asks, amused.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s ears turn slightly red, but he nods.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’m not sure, actually. I think I just wanted to keep you conscious,” Seungsik admits.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“By flirting with me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik grins. “You are very handsome. And it worked, didn’t it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo laughs as he resumes his gentle head massage. “And what would you have done if I said I had a boyfriend?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik ponders the question. He’s never thought about that before. It’s a silly question now — a meaningless what if — but Seungsik thinks about it seriously.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I’d probably tell you to hold on for him then,” Seungsik finally says.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He sits up. The conversation has turned serious, but Seungsik doesn’t mind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo takes both of Seungsik’s legs and crosses them over his lap as Seungsik naturally winds his arms around Seungwoo’s neck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“I held on for you,” Seungwoo says, soft.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik lifts his head from Seungwoo’s shoulder. “What?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“That night. I held on for you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">They’re both quiet for a minute as the words and implication sink it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik pulls Seungwoo in for a kiss. They’re both smiling when their lips meet.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo’s lips are soft and familiar, and his hands that cup Seungsik’s face in place are big and warm. When Seungwoo swipes his tongue into Seungsik’s mouth with practiced ease, Seungsik feels a shiver of pleasure run through his body.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Kissing Seungwoo is easy, and somehow, has become Seungsik’s favorite pastime.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">With a last nibble on Seungwoo’s bottom lip, Seungsik pulls away. The sight that greets him nearly makes him dive right back in: Seungwoo hot and bothered, his hair disheveled, eyes hooded and dark, lips swollen and red.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">He groans with regret. “I should’ve kissed you that night.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungwoo chuckles lowly, pulling Seungsik back against him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">“You should’ve,” he agrees, as his hands move from Seungsik’s waist to slip under his shirt. “But don’t worry, we have plenty of time to make up for your mistake.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3">Seungsik laughs breathlessly, letting Seungwoo pull him into another kiss.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No one:<br/>Me: Seungwoo gazes fondly at [insert name of any member]</p><p>There's really not another word to describe the way Seungwoo looks at Victon other than fondness.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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